Private

Today is not only the day I’m finally moving out of Hamburg for good, it’s also the day I’m changing something in my life that’s been a part of it for about 14 years. I decided to share this with you since I believe that this is a very important topic and it’s something we need to talk about more. A few days ago, after already thinking about it for a few years, I decided that I want to stop taking the pill. There are many reasons and these are some of them that led to my decision:

I’ve been taking it for 14 years – that’s more than half of my life and definitely not acceptable anymore! I don’t even know who I am without the pill, without all those hormones in my body. I’ve been 13 when I had my period for the first time and got the prescription because of the horrible pain I felt. My gynecologist thinks I may suffer of endometriosis and checking this will be the next step.

Not only have I been taking it for so long, I even took it without doing the pauses because of the pain. My gyn let me do this so I won’t even have my period and therefore avoid the pain. Of course it’s super convenient and lovely not to bleed every month but looking at it from the “natural” side: this is not normal.

The pill is dangerous. Highly dangerous. I mean, only the danger of thrombosis is enormous and I don’t want to live in fear of this anymore.

I’m pretty sure my migraine is caused by the pill. And I got it very often. Too often.

I’m actually a little scared of how my body will react. Like: I’ve always had very good skin, never any problems with pimples during my puberty or after, no acne, no nothing. Only thing I’ve been always struggling with is hormonal (maybe also caused by the pill, who knows?) hair loss. I’m pretty sure that it also didn’t help with my weight to take the pill so excessively. Another thing: diabetes plus period – this is probably going to be hell since it affects the blood sugar. So I’m pretty sure that I’ll have to learn a lot… And then there’s the fact that I’ve never got to know myself, my physical and emotional feelings, my period cycle or anything else without the pill. Thinking about it, this is actually not only terrible but also super sad.

I’m also scared of the pain I will feel again but I took a very special precaution: I’ve been part of a crowdfunding project called “Livia” – the device is supposed to work like a TENS machine especially created for menstrual pain. This sounded more than appealing to me and I blindly invested my money in this project and around July this year, I finally received my very own lilac “Livia”. And trust me: I’m extremely excited and curious to try it, so somehow, I’m actually looking forward to my next period (sounds horribly crazy because if it doesn’t work, the pain will be unbearable and it will definitely make me consider stopping this whole “no more pill” thing because this is my last chance – regular painkillers never worked for me)… I’ll keep you updated on that – if it works, how it works, etc.

And then there’s another thing I want to try – menstrual cups. I don’t want to use tampons anymore. It’s insane that it’s almost 2018 and the evolution of tampons stopped many years ago and the use of them is also pretty dangerous. And let’s be honest: sanitary pads are a bloody mess (pun intended, haha!). I really don’t like it. The invention of menstrual cups is super cool and I’m excited to get to know them (I’m open for any tips!), even though I won’t be able to use them instantly cause I’ll have to get to know my menstrual cycle. So here I am – ready for everything that’s coming.

Last topic: contraception. I still don’t know which path I’ll take for that. Obviously, there’s loads of stuff to discover, read and learn and I haven’t decided yet, what I want to try. We’ll see.

So that’s all for now. I’m pretty sure that in two days (at the latest) I’ll cryingly regret my decision but it’s so worth it. The pill is not an option anymore.

Questions for you: who’s on this journey with me? Are there other women who stopped taking the pill or intend to do it (join me, now!)? What are your experiences? How do you feel now? Which contraception method did you choose? Tell me your story if you want to, I’m super curious! :)

It’s been already a little more than six months since I’m living back home at my parents. I moved back into my old room downstairs and I had to go through the hardest time after the break-up without my stuff. In a few days, I’m finally getting back all my clothes and personal belongings – it’s gonna be a relief and also a much needed cut and line at the end of the last 8 years.

But at the same time, I had to go through 3 stages of being back at my parents with 27 and I want to share them with you in this personal post:

During interviews, the question “Did you always feel good in your body?” is usually one of the first questions. As if it was a masterly performance to be satisfied with yourself or as if I should rather lie and/or be ashamed of it – because I’m fat. And I should feel bad about it. Thanks!

Of course I know that it’s not the easiest thing to look at yourself (especially naked) in the mirror and say “Hey, I’m awesome the way I am!” if everybody and everything is telling you all the time that you’re not – unless you change this and that and most important: you lose weight. Because only as a thin person you’re a valuable part of this society, accepted and tolerated, beautiful and desirable. If you’re fat, the best “compliment” you can expect is that you have a pretty face – usually this is weakened by a passing “If you were thin…” plus a random positive development you could achieve in your life. Be it with men, at your job, anywhere: if you’re skinny, you’re automatically better. And then, when you’re thinner, you notice that it wasn’t that much worth it, because if you’re not fundamentally happy with yourself, the few sizes less won’t change anything. Only the diet industry will be cheering loudly cause they recruited another disciple, a new member of their “sect”, for which counting calories or “points” is as holy and will bring you the same light as twelve “Ave Maria”. Isn’t it sad to think negatively about food and yourself all the time? Is that really worth it?

Now I’ve certainly been a lot thinner 8 years ago when I started this blog. I wasn’t skinny-skinny but a lot skinnier than today. Back then, I wore an average EU size 38, today it’s 44-48. For some who approach me about that from time to time, it seems to be a catastrophe of a horrible dimension, they’re horrified and convinced that it should be some kind of apocalypse for me, they can’t understand at all how something “like this” could happen, and they’re left pretty confused when they see that I’m not as distraught as they are. Cause for me, it’s really not that terrible.

I don’t even know where to start. I’ve already written about sexual harassment in → this and → this Private post, but I feel like there is more to say, more stories to tell. It’s time to make this problem even more public and concrete in order to make things change. Because it just can’t go on like this.

After Alyssa Milano’s tweet because of the current Harvey Weinstein scandal, the reactions were huge. I, too, put the words “me too” on my private Facebook account because, like – I dare to say it – every woman, I’ve been sexually harassed. Not only once or twice, it keeps happening every single day. Just because I’m online.

Thinking back, I think the first time I’ve been sexually harassed, actually assaulted, happened when I was 15 years old during a one-week internship we had to do thanks to school. I chose to go to a travel agency that’s also a post office. The owner of the agency was a friend of my parents. His son, at that time 30 years old, managed the post office. Of course, I thought he’s cute and interesting (cause with 15, older guys are always more interesting than the stupid boys around you – at least I thought so) but I never thought about what could happen these days. I never provoked it. One of these days I was alone with him, sorting old travel catalogues for his father, when he suddenly appeared behind me and kissed my neck. At first, I was flattered. I didn’t know better. We kissed and during lunch break, he took me home to see his mother, a good friend of my mom – and then he took me one floor up, to his own apartment. Where he wanted me to put my hand on his penis. I refused, said that I don’t want to. He tried to convince me, said that it’s nothing bad, took my hand and put it on his erect penis, over his pants. I felt ashamed and confused, I didn’t want this. The situation was weird and I didn’t feel good about it. The last two days at the agency were weird, I felt dirty and disgusted. Only years later, I told my parents what had happened. This was definitely the worst story of them all in my 27 years on this Earth, being a woman.

I’ve been catcalled by construction workers when walking through the city, during daytime. At a teen party in our city’s “E-Werk” (a party, concert and culture venue), a boy put his t-shirt over my head from behind and rubbed his dick on my ass before he disappeared without saying a word. When waiting for the bus alone at the station in our little village, truck drivers always slowed down and honked when they drove past me – I was probably 16 when it happened most often. Another guy kept grabbing my boobs while kissing though I kept saying that I don’t want this and he should stop.

And then there’s tons of guys on social media, mostly from Arabic countries, that keep sending me dick pics, asking for “nudes”, proposals, weird sex offers (a 17 years old boy asked me to take his virginity) and other “love messages”. This is my daily life on Instagram and Facebook. Just because I post pictures of myself. And obviously because I’m fat and please their fetish and deserve to hear that they want to “suck my asshole dry”.

This is not okay. And what’s even worse, is still that discussion about what women can do to prevent this. NO! It’s still not about us women. It is about men. I’m not saying that all men are sexual harassers. Not all of them do this shit, but all of them are in this and all of them have to change something about it. Those who are not involved in sexual harassment should do something instead of watching and ignoring. Teach your friends, tell them when they’re doing something wrong. It’s not like men and boys are wearing constant blinders and not noticing all this. They just prefer to say nothing cause that’s the easiest way. But this is the worst you can do. Remaining silent when there’s a situation where you should take the fall for somebody – this has to change!

We need to teach our children. Teach our sons that all this is not okay. Teach our daughters that they shouldn’t choose silence when it happens. We need to teach our kids respect, how to treat each other, how to accept a “no” (and that a “no” doesn’t always mean that someone declines you at all, so it doesn’t mean that you have to become insulting and aggressive and – worst case – a rapist). We need to teach men that clothes are not an invitation. Clothes don’t make you a rapist, but your disgusting mind.

We need to talk about it. As often as it’s needed. Until something changes. We need to end the generation of #metoo. I want my friends to be safe. I want myself to be safe. And if it means that I have to write about it once, twice, three times or even more in order to make a change, I’ll do so. I don’t want to remain silent, I don’t want to ignore this problem. And I will always open my mouth to shout when it happens to me, when it happens to others.